


Stairs Don't Leave Handprints

by irisadler (poppycarpenter)



Category: One Tree Hill
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-05-27 00:58:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6263191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poppycarpenter/pseuds/irisadler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Brooke is attacked, she tells Lucas that she fell down the stairs. He doesn't believe her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Confrontation

**Author's Note:**

> Requested by the lovely dianehermans.

CHAPTER ONE  


“Brooke?” Lucas called out, slightly concerned, as he knocked on the glass door at the back of her house. He didn’t see her anywhere so he called her name again. His slight concern increased. Her voice had sounded strange over the phone. He didn’t know what was wrong but he was sure that something was up.  
Finally, Brooke’s small form appeared in the kitchen. Even though it was quite warm outside, she was wearing long sleeves and long pants, which was quite unlike her. Brooke knew what she had and she liked to flaunt it. She also had sunglasses on. Inside. Brooke hated when people wore sunglasses inside. Why was she wearing sunglasses inside?  
Lucas knew something was seriously wrong and he was anxious for her to tell him. Brooke unlocked the door and slid it open.  
She kept her face down and didn’t touch him as she greeted her friend. “Hey, Luke.” Her voice was quiet and raspier than usual, as if her throat was hurting.  
“Brooke?” his voice lilted up at the end, wordlessly asking about her appearance and strange greeting. She turned away from him and walked towards the kitchen island.  
“Brooke.” His voice a little more forceful now. “Brooke, what is wrong?”  
Still facing away from him, she moved to take her sunglasses off. “Please don’t freak out…” her voice trailed off and she slowly turned so she was looking at him.  
Instantly, Lucas was filled with shock, anger, and pity. Her face was a mess. Both eyes were surrounded by large black and purple bruises and one was swollen shut. Her lip was split and there were bruises littering her face and neck. There was a trail of blue and purple that disappeared under the collar of her uncharacteristic long sleeve shirt and cardigan.  
Although he wanted to contain his reaction so as not to scare her, he couldn’t contain the breath that hissed out between his teeth or the clenching of his hands into fists.  
“Jesus, Brooke. What the hell happened?!” He moved towards her, intending to put his hands on her shoulders in comfort but she jerked backwards. He stopped abruptly. “Brooke…”  
She laughed humorlessly, something she did when she was uncomfortable. “Sorry, I’m just really sore. It’s nothing, I just fell down the stairs. Face first.” She laughed again and crossed her arms over her chest, pulling her sweater tighter against her. “I’m in a lot of pain, but I’ll be alright. It was just stupid.”  
Lucas looked at her intently, trying to decipher her expression. “Brooke, your bruises look like a little more than the damage from a fall down the stairs.  
She looked away from his questioning eyes. “I mean, it was a bad fall…” She pushed her hair behind her ear, another nervous tic of hers. She looked up at Lucas, catching his piercing eyes again. She quickly looked away again and busied herself with making some tea.  
She offered some to Lucas, who refused. His eyes were glued to every move.  
As she stood on her toes and reached up to grab a mug, her sweater slipped from her shoulders, revealing a large bruise that looked suspiciously like a hand print.  
“Brooke!” Lucas gasped.  
She whipped her head around, realizing what he had seen. She pulled her sweater tight around her body again and feigned a smile. “Pretty bad bruise, huh? I really took a tumble.”  
She turned back to her tea-making.  
Lucas moved toward her and reached to pull her sweater from her shoulder. She jerked away from him as soon as his hand came in contact with her shoulder.  
“Brooke.” His voice was soft. She sighed and let him move the sweater away gently. She heard his sharp intake of breath.  
“Oh my god…” She couldn’t decipher what emotion Lucas’ voice was filled with.  
She jumped when she felt his hand on her shoulder, his fingers lining up with the bruise.  
“Brooke! This is a handprint!” His voice bore thinly veiled anger.  
She pulled her sweater over her shoulders and quickly moved away from her irate friend.  
“No it’s not, it’s just a coincidence.”  
“Brooke, this is not a coincidence. Stairs don’t leave handprint-shaped bruises. What actually happened?”  
She angrily stirred her tea.  
“I told you, Luke, I fell down the stairs. It’s not a handprint.”  
“You did not fall down the stairs!” He practically stalked toward her, noticing her withdrawing.  
“You’ve been acting weird. You won’t let me touch you, you’re jumpy, you have handprint bruises, you’re not acting normal. I know you, Brooke Davis. You didn’t fall down the stairs so what the hell happened? Tell me!” He practically shouted at her. She flinched.  
He instantly quieted his voice. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, but I need to know what happened.” He slowly approached her and she let him. He gently placed his hands on her shoulders and looked into her beautiful brown eyes. “Brooke, what happened?”  
She looked down. “I told you, I fell down the stairs. That’s all.”  
“No it isn’t!” Lucas threw his hands up in anger. She flinched again. “Tell me the truth, Brooke!” He was yelling now.  
“That is the truth, Lucas!” she spit back. She was yelling now too.  
“No it is not! You know it and I know it. Tell me the truth!”  
“THAT IS THE TRUTH!” She yelled, angry now. Tears were forming at the corners of her eyes. She hated that she cried when she was angry. She tried to hold them back. “I fell down the stairs!”  
Luke’s eyes narrowed and he stared her down. “I don’t believe you.”  
“Fine!” She yelled. She marched over to the door and flung it open.  
“If you don’t believe me, you don’t trust me. If you don’t trust me, then GET OUT!”  
She pointed out the door.  
“FINE!” He yelled. He stormed out the door.  
“I HATE YOU!” She screamed after him. She slammed the door behind him and wasted no time in sinking to the floor.  
The sobs came quickly. She knew Lucas was just looking out for her but she couldn’t say anything. She couldn’t tell him what had happened. She just couldn’t. And if she lost him, so be it. A strangled noise tore out of her. She didn’t want to lose Lucas, but she couldn’t tell him. She just couldn’t. She curled around herself, on the ground in front of the door. She let her sobs overtake her and succumbed to her fear.


	2. An Old Friend

Chapter 2  
It had been three days since Lucas had stormed out of her home. Three days since she had angrily screamed that she hated him. Three days since they had spoken. It had also been three days since she had been to work, three days since she had spoken to any of her friends, three days since she had even left the house. Peyton was out of town to check in on Mia’s tour, so Brooke had been completely isolated for three days. She was in tatters. The bruises were a dark purple and peppered her body and face. Her eyes were swollen and her lips were puffy and cut up. Her hair was matted and damp. She kept showering, as if she could scrub off what had happened. She had barely eaten anything. She couldn’t stomach anything, knowing the way she had left things with Lucas. The memories of the attack didn’t help either. She just didn’t want food. At this point, she wasn’t really feeling like living. She couldn’t cry, she couldn’t sleep, she couldn’t even feel. She was numb, zombie-like.  
She was lying on the couch, staring at the wall, her mind wandering. A soft knock on the door startled her so violently that she knocked a glass off the table beside the couch.  
The door opened and Brooke yelped. Karen saw the scene before her “Oh Brooke, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. I heard the glass smashing and wanted to know if you were alright…” She looked Brooke up and down. She took in her tattered appearance and the bruises and put her hand over her mouth. “Oh Brooke…” her voice was barely a whisper. “Oh honey.” She took a step towards the battered girl but Brooke skittered backwards. Karen looked as if her heart would burst out of her chest. “Brooke, sweetie, what happened?” Her voice was soft, warm and inviting. Brooke wanted so badly to tell her the truth, but she couldn’t bring herself to form the words. She had been dishonest with Lucas, how could she be honest with anyone else?  
Karen moved towards Brooke again, this time more tentatively. “Brooke, tell me what happened, please. Luke told me you fell down the stairs but…” she stopped, searching Brooke’s face. “I don’t think that’s what happened.”  
Brooke looked down, unable to say a word.  
Karen hugged her gently, holding Brooke to her chest. Brooke resisted at first, but then let herself melt into the embrace of the older woman.  
Everything came to the surface and she began sobbing. She sobbed for what she had suffered at the hands of her attacker, she sobbed for her store, she sobbed over the ordeal with her mother, and she sobbed about her fight with Lucas. She cried violently. Sobs tore out of her, spasms racking her body. Her voice was hoarse. She could barely breathe.  
Karen didn’t say anything, she just let Brooke cry. She knew that she needed to get it out. She held the broken Brooke to her chest tightly, stroking her hair and rocking her gently.  
When Brooke’s cries quieted, Karen lifted her chin so that she could look into her eyes.  
“Brooke, what on earth happened?”


	3. The Truth Comes Out

Brooke looked away from Karen’s probing eyes. She opened her mouth to speak but Karen interrupted.   
“Don’t tell me you fell down the stairs. I know you, Brooke, and I know that this” she gestured to Brooke’s damaged form and her tears “is not from falling down the stairs. Lucas is right, sweetheart. Stairs don’t leave handprints.” She stroked Brooke’s hair again and her eyes softened. “Please be honest with me, Brooke. I can’t help if you keep lying to me and yourself. I’m here for you, sweetie, but you have to tell me the truth.”   
Brooke heaved a sigh and looked into Karen’s eyes. She knew that Karen wanted to know the truth because she loved her and was concerned for her.   
Brooke looked at her hands a took a steadying breath. In a small voice, she began.  
“I was attacked in my store.” She heard Karen’s sharp intake of breath, but the older woman didn’t say anything. She knew Brooke needed to get it all out before hearing from Karen.   
Brooke kept going. “It was late at night. I was alone in the store. I had just closed and was locking up when he came in. I was out of it; I had spent the day arguing with my mom and I was exhausted and frustrated. I had just flipped off the lights when he came in.” She flicked her eyes up at Karen, pausing to gauge her reaction.   
Karen was careful not to let her emotion cloud her face. Brooke had just begun but Karen was already horrified. She was pretty sure she knew how the story ended and she was terrified to hear it, but she knew that Brooke needed to talk about it, to get it off her chest. So she was careful. She held her anger in check and let Brooke continue.   
Brooke knew she had to disconnect herself in order to not break down. She took a deep breath and forged on. Her tone was flat and her eyes were dull and glassy. “He immediately started hitting me. I screamed, but no one heard.” She looked down at her hands again, which were wringing each other. “I have no idea how long he hit me for. Time seemed to slow down and speed up at the same time. It dragged on and on but it seemed to be happening all at once. It was like he had been hitting me forever. He hit me so many times. Everywhere he could reach. His fists were like a hurricane; raining down on me from every which way. It was like he had a thousand hands, not just two. He was laughing at me the whole time…” Her voice caught and she paused, unable to speak for a few moments. She didn’t want to cry. She didn’t want to show weakness anymore.  
It was all Karen could do not to sob. She couldn’t bear to hear this. She didn’t want to listen as Brooke recounted the story of her vicious attack. She didn’t want to believe that there were people capable of such evil living in the world, let alone in Tree Hill. But she knew that she needed to be strong for Brooke, so she kept control. She kept her mouth shut because she knew that if she tried to speak all her anger and sorrow and sympathy would come spilling out in incoherent cries and that is not what Brooke needed. Brooke needed her to listen. So she would listen.  
Brooke gathered herself and pushed her emotions down so she could continue. She hated reliving it, but she felt a strange sense of relief at finally telling someone the truth. She felt slightly guilty that the first person she was telling was Karen, not Lucas or Peyton, but she also knew that Karen was a good person to tell. She trusted Karen completely and knew that Karen would help her in any way she possibly could without pushing her. God, she loved Karen. And with that thought, she continued her story.   
“He just kept hitting me. His fists were bloody. I don’t know whether it was my blood or his or both. I blacked out from the pain. He shook me to wake me up so I could feel everything he was doing to me, I think. He grabbed my arms so hard they left bruises.” She subconsciously brushed her hand over the dark purple finger prints on her left arm, just under her shoulder. “That’s where the handprints came from…” she paused briefly, swallowed, then spoke again. “I thought he was going to rape me.” Karen couldn’t stop her sharp gasp. Brooke flinched.   
“Brooke, I—“  
“No, Karen, it’s okay. I just need to get it out.” She met Karen’s eyes, which were bright with unshed tears. The raven-haired woman gave her an encouraging half-smile that portrayed her willingness to listen.  
Brooke looked down again. “I thought he was going to rape me and then kill me. I… I was consumed with the thought that I would never see my friends or family again. I would never get to spend a girls’ night with Haley and Peyton again, never get to babysit and spoil Jamie again, never talk to Mouth, never help Rachel, never tease Nathan, never tell Lucas I love h—“ she stopped abruptly. She heaved a sigh. “I thought it was the end. But then the beating stopped. He left me on the floor and walked to the door, laughing.” She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Before he walked outside,” her voice shook “he told me to have a nice night. Then he just left, leaving me there, bleeding.” A tear rolled down her face. She had tried so hard to stop herself from crying but now, as she thought about laying alone in her store, she couldn’t control it.   
Laying there, she had never been more afraid in her entire life. She was sure that she would die. Every inch of her body was broken and battered. Her entire existence felt like it was throbbing from the pain. Every breath she took raked through her throat and lungs like knives. Tears flowed from her swollen eyes, mixing with the blood flowing from her head. She tried to call for help, but she could not find her voice. It was lost in the waves of agony that crashed over her. It was like she was drowning in her own pain. She laid there as the night stretched on. She didn’t know how long it had been. It could have been hours, it could have been minutes. The pain clouded her mind’s understanding of time passing. She couldn’t see a clock and her phone had fallen and skittered somewhere unreachable when she had fallen underneath her attacker. She was completely alone and unsure whether she would ever be rescued. This was where she would meet her death. She was sure of it. Her breaths started getting shorter and shallower, scorching through her. Fear and pain and despair rushed over her. She tried to stand to go and get help, but her body betrayed her. She crashed to the floor, darkness rushing over her until she passed out.  
“Brooke! Brooke!” Karen’s voice seemed to be coming through water. Karen shook Brooke gently, begging her to come back to the present. “Brooke, honey, it’s okay. I’m right here, you’re right here. Come back!”   
Brooke finally registered that Karen was speaking to her. She looked around and saw the warmth and comfort and light of her home, not the darkness of her store. She looked up at Karen, her eyes filled with latent terror.   
Karen hugged her tightly. “Oh Brooke, sweetheart, I’m here. You’re safe now.” Her voice hitched and she rocked Brooke gently. “Honey I am so sorry…” She didn’t have any other words for Brooke right now. She didn’t know how to console her or help her.   
Karen didn’t know how this type of evil could exist in the world. Sure, Brooke could be a little abrasive, but she was one of the most wonderful girls Karen had ever met. Anyone who spent five minutes with Brooke fell in love with her instantly. Karen couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to hurt her, let alone anyone actually doing it. She felt so angry and disappointed at the world. How could a person do this to another human being? She wanted so badly to help Brooke but she was at a complete loss. How do you make something like this better? It was hopeless.


	4. Ready Now

Brooke’s sobs slowly subsided and her grip on Karen loosened gradually. Finally, she pulled away and wiped at her eyes. They were even more swollen and puffy now. They were dark purple; the makeup Brooke had applied to dull their color had been washed away in her flood of tears.   
The look Brooke gave her made Karen want to cry for what seemed like the hundredth time since Karen had stepped foot into the house an hour ago.   
“Thank you, Karen. For listening.” She paused. “I’m sorry I dumped that all on you—“  
“No, Brooke, don’t be sorry.” Karen grabbed her hand gently. “I’m so glad you told me. I can’t imagine how hard it was to tell someone, let alone go through that. Thank you for telling me, sweetie. You are so brave.” Karen’s eyes shown with tears and she squeezed Brooke’s hand.  
“But you know I am not the only person you have to tell. I want to tell you to go to the police but I know you and since you haven’t already, I know I can’t convince you to. And as much as I want to try and convince you to talk to the police anyway, I think the person you need to talk to most urgently is Lucas.” Her voice was warm and calming, but her words spiked fear in Brooke.   
She stood up, filled with dread. “Oh Karen, he probably hates me. I told him I hated him!” She pressed a hand to her forehead. “Oh God, what did I do?” She started to pace but Karen went to her quickly.   
“No, Brooke. He doesn’t hate you. He could never hate you.”   
“But I lied to his face and he knew it! He called me out on it and I wouldn’t let him in. God I am such an idiot! How could I think that I would trick him!”  
“Brooke, honey, you were trying to protect him. I get it. And he will get it too. You just have to talk to him.”   
She started to pace again. “He’s not gonna let me talk to him. I was so horrible…”  
“He’s so worried about you, he just wants to hear from you, I guarantee it.”  
“No he won’t.”  
Karen huffed. “Brooke. The reason I came over here is because Lucas barged into my house this morning in a panic rambling about how he hadn’t heard from you and that you were hurt and that he was worried and I needed to go over and check on you because he was sure you would refuse to talk to him and he needed to know that you were okay. He’s not mad. He just wants you to be alright.”  
Brooke stopped and looked at Karen, hope blooming in her chest. “He did? He was worried.”  
Karen chuckled. “Of course, Brooke. No matter what he says, that boy is in love with you. He cares more about you than he has ever cared for any woman in his life. Except me of course.”   
Brooke cracked a smile. “Thank you, Karen. For everything. For coming to check on me, for getting me to talk, for listening to me, for caring for me. You are so amazing and I am so lucky to have a woman like you in my life. Honestly, you are more of a mother to me than my own mother sometimes. Thank you so much. I love you.”  
She leaned in and hugged Karen tightly. Karen rubbed her back gently before pulling away. She brushed a strand of Brooke’s hair behind her ear and brushed her cheek. “Of course, honey. I am always here for you. Keith and I love you like one of our own. You can always come to me or to us. I love you so much. I always will.” She hugged Brooke again briefly. When they pulled apart, Brooke’s face was serious.   
“I really need to talk to him, don’t I?”   
Karen put her hand on Brooke’s arm. Comfort seemed to radiate from her fingers. She gave Brooke her characteristic “I care about you but you’re being stupid and we both know it” look. “Yes, honey, you really do.”  
Brooke felt that little trickle of dread creep up in her again.   
“Okay.”   
“I’m going to go, Brooke. Be strong, you can do this. He loves you.”   
And with that, Karen left.   
Brooke sat down on the couch and pulled out her cellphone. She stared at the blank screen, the dread spreading through her stomach. She dialed and held the phone to her ear.  
It rang four times and then she heard the voice that still made her heart sing, although this time it stirred some anxiety too.  
“Hello?”  
“Lucas, it’s Brooke. We need to talk…”


	5. Paralyzed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you would like some music to set the mood, listen to “Paralyzed” and “Breathe” by NF. That’s what I wrote this story to. It will help bring out the intensity of emotion that I felt Brooke and Lucas were sharing here. This was a conversation they needed to have, but both of them were so afraid to get everything out in the open and truly admit their fears and be vulnerable. They were paralyzed by their fear.

Brooke sat on her couch, wringing her hands nervously as she waited. She knew she needed to tell Lucas the truth, she owed him that, but she just didn’t know how. How was she supposed to tell Lucas, the man who has been there for her through everything, the guy who loved her through her worst days, the one who forgave every single bad thing she did and loved her even more after, that she had been attacked? Assaulted. She didn’t know how she was going to break this news. She knew he knew that she hadn’t fallen down the stairs, but Lucas assumed the best in people; he would never think that someone could do this. Brooke knew that this would kill him. Not only that she had been beaten within an inch of her life, but that she lied to him about it. She knew that he would assume that she didn’t trust him.   
She sighed roughly, trying to reign in her thoughts. She was already terrified, she couldn’t psych herself out even more. She would never get through the day. She would never get through this conversation.   
Just then, there was a light tapping on the door. The blood seemed to freeze in her veins. Lucas was here. Her hands started shaking, her nerves taking over. Her breathing sped up, her eyes unfocused. NO. She thought to herself. You are stronger than this. It’s just Lucas, for heaven’s sake. You can do this. She took a deep breath to steady herself and went to the door. She hesitated briefly, then opened the door.   
Lucas took one look at her and his breath hitched. He brought a hand up to his mouth as he looked at her.   
Her eyes were swollen and ringed with deep blues, purples, and greens. Her lips were cracked and torn. Her bruises were fading, but that just made them seem more gruesome.   
Brooke pulled the silk robe she was wearing over a tank top and shorts tight over her shoulders. She took another deep breath and looked at her feet, unable to meet Lucas’ gaze. It was both pitying and probing at the same time.   
“Hi.” Brooke’s voice was small.   
“Hi…” Lucas’s voice was breathy and unsure. He didn’t know how to feel, or how to treat Brooke. He was still hurt, but he knew she was hurting more. He knew she needed him right now. Well, she would if she let herself need him.   
Brooke motioned to the living room and walked towards the sitting area. She sat on the couch and he sat across from her in the armchair he liked.   
She fidgeted and cleared her throat. “H-how are you?” she asked delicately.  
Lucas huffed. “I didn’t come here for small talk, Brooke.” His voice was harsher than he had intended it to be. She flinched. He sighed.  
“I’m sorry, Brooke, I didn’t mean to snap at you. I just— I’m worried about you, Brooke. And things didn’t exactly end well the other day and I just— I just, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry but I need the truth.”   
His eyes were warm and his gaze soft as he looked at her.   
“Please, Brooke” his voice was almost a whisper. “Please tell me the truth.”  
She shifted her weight and took a breath before she started. “I didn’t fall down the stairs; you were right.” Lucas nodded, his eyes knowing. “I—“ she hesitated. Could she do this? Could she actually do this? She looked at Lucas, her Lucas, the one who had loved her always, and that gave her strength. He gave her strength.   
“I was attacked. In my store.” Lucas gasped, unable to control his reaction.   
“Brooke, I—“  
She put up a hand to stop him. “No, Luke. Please just let me get this out. If you stop me and you say sorry or try to make it better, I am going to fall apart and I won’t be able to tell you everything that happened. I won’t make it through.” Her voice cracked. She looked down at her hands and then back at him. “Is that something you can do? Let me get it out?”  
He nodded, his eyes shining with something unidentifiable. Pity? Anger? She couldn’t tell.   
She slipped into the monotony of telling the story. She tried to disconnect herself as she told it; she didn’t want to breakdown. She couldn’t.” She let the words she had told Karen fall out of her mouth, almost word for word.   
“I was closing. It was late at night. I was alone, Milly had already left and I had been fighting with my mom all day about firing her so she wasn’t there. I was locking up when he came in. I was out of it because of my mom so I wasn’t really paying attention. I had just flipped off the lights when he came in.” She looked up to see his reaction. He was still as a stone, his face unreadable.   
He met her eyes and cocked his chin, urging her to continue.   
“He immediately started hitting me. I screamed, but no one heard.” She swallowed to lump rising in her throat. “I have no idea how long he hit me for. Time seemed to slow down and speed up all at the same time. It dragged on and on but it seemed to be happening all at once, in a split second. It was like he had been hitting me forever but it seemed so fast too. He hit me so many times. Everywhere he could reach. He was a hurricane; raining down on me from every which way. It was like he had a thousand hands, not just two. He was laughing at me the whole time…” Tears started pricking at the corners of her eyes. “I can still hear his voice…” her own voice wavered under the weight of the memories.   
“Brooke…” Lucas’ voice was heavy with emotion.  
“No, Lucas. Don’t. Not yet.”  
He gasped quietly. There was more?  
She took another deep breath, sinking back into her disconnected state, her eyes glassy, her voice flat. “He just kept hitting me. His fists were bloody. I don’t know whether it was my blood or his or both. Maybe it was both. I think I blacked out from the pain a few times. He shook me to wake me up so I could feel everything he was doing to me, I think. He was so sadistic. He grabbed my arms so hard they left bruises.” She subconsciously brushed her hand over the dark purple finger prints on her left arm, just under her shoulder. “That’s where the handprints came from…” she paused briefly, swallowed, then spoke again. “I thought he was going to rape me.”   
Lucas couldn’t contain himself at that. He launched from the armchair and began pacing, yanking his hands through his hair. 

It was all Brooke could do not to cower in fear. She knew that this was Lucas and he would never hurt her, but she heard that man’s voice in her and could feel his breath on her neck, and she was scared.   
Luke looked over to where Brooke was curled up on the couch and stopped abruptly.   
“Oh, Brooke, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He slowly went back to the armchair and sat down.   
“Please finish. I’ll control myself, I promise.” He shot her a half smile that didn’t reach his eyes, telling her he wanted her to keep going.  
She one of her hands over the handprints on her arm again and centered herself.  
Her voice was small as she continued. “I really thought he was going to rape me and then kill me.” The tears pricked at her again, burning behind her eyes. “I thought I would never see my family again. Or my friends. I thought I would never get to babysit Jamie again, or have a girls’ night with Haley and Peyton, I would never have to pick Rachel up out of some gutter and get her back on her feet” she let out a humorless laugh “I would never get to tease Nathan or banter with mouth and never tell you—“ she stopped, the tears flowing now. “I was laying there, bleeding and barely conscious and I just wanted you, Lucas. I wanted you so badly.” Her voice cracked and she put a hand to her mouth. “I was so scared.” Her shoulders shook.  
She looked so small. Gone was the confident air he was so accustomed to. Instead, Brooke was surrounded by an aura of fear, defeat, and rage. He didn’t know what to do.   
How was he supposed to act? What was he supposed to say? Brooke, his Brooke, had been attacked in her store. And he hadn’t been there to protect her. And then she had lied about it. Why? Did she not trust him? Was she afraid of how he would react? Why hadn’t she told him? He was trying so hard to understand, but he couldn’t wrap his mind around everything that she had said.   
It was tearing him apart to see her like this; so broken, so defeated. He didn’t know how to help. He wanted so badly to reach out to her, wrap her in his arms and never let her go, but he didn’t know if it was okay for him to touch her. His breath was stuck in his throat. It was like he couldn’t drag the air out of his lungs. He didn’t know what to do. So he just stared at her, his mouth hanging slightly opened, his brows furrowed. He just stared.  
Brooke was withering underneath that stare. What was he thinking? She self-consciously crossed her arms, sinking into herself. Why wouldn’t he say something? She needed him to speak. She needed him to pull her into his arms and hold her so she couldn’t break down. She needed him to be strong for her so she didn’t have to be, for once. She needed to hear his voice telling her that she would be okay and she needed to feel his arms encircling her, reassuring her. She needed him to move, to act, to be there.   
But he wasn’t. He couldn’t. He just stared.


	6. Breathe Freely

Breathe Freely  
Brooke seemed to wither under his penetrating gaze.  
As he stared at her, she started to become anxious, rubbing her arms as though she felt cold.  
And in a way, she did. She felt so cold inside. This is not how she expected Lucas to react. She expected him to hold her, to comfort her, to keep her from falling apart. But no, he just stared at her, unable to move.  
His heart broke a little more every second that he looked at her. His beautiful Brooke, broken and battered. He didn’t know how to help her. His heart was telling him to go to her, wrap her in his arms, and never let her go. It was telling him to hold her forever, protecting and loving her. But his mind was a different story; it was a mess of emotions and thoughts telling him twelve different things at once. Parts of his mind agreed with heart, but other parts were telling him that he shouldn’t touch her, it would scare her. Still others were telling him that he had lost the right to comfort her long ago, when he had walked out on her years before, and even more so when he had walked out of her house just day before.   
After a few minutes, Brooke couldn’t take it anymore. She wanted to crawl out of her skin.  
“Say something!” She snapped.   
Lucas flinched, having been stuck in his head.  
“Gah… I’m sorry Brooke. I… I—I… I don’t know what to say… I don’t know what you want me to do…” He was at a total loss.  
Brooke scoffed. “I want you to say something instead of just staring at me!” she crossed her arms in defiance for a few moments before deflating. “I don’t know, Lucas. Just say something…”  
He looked at her with his mouth open, searching for the right words.   
He took a careful step towards her, moving slowly. “I’m so sorry, Brooke. I wish I had been there to stop it from happening. I wish that I had been there after it happened, to comfort you and help you through it.” His voice was getting slightly louder with each word, conveying his emotion. “I wish that I had been less stubborn, that I had tried a little harder to understand why were you shutting me out. I wish—“ his voice cracked. “I wish that I hadn’t walked out like that the other day… I should have known what you needed…”  
Brooke’s voice was like ice when she answered. “Yes, you should have. You should have known, Luke! I was hurting and instead of being there and helping me through it you accused me and made me angry and you just jumped down my throat like you always do!” She was yelling now, her arms crossed again. But this time, they were a shield. Her anger was a shield too. She knew she was wrong, but she was too scared to let Lucas all the way in. She had just been so vulnerable and he had done nothing but stare at her. She was angry, hurt, and confused and it was all bubbling to the surface. She knew that she would hurt Luke again but at the moment she didn’t care. She just needed to protect herself.   
“You should have taken a moment to think about what I was going through instead of just freaking out on me and jumping to conclusions!”  
Luke huffed, obviously implying that he had been right.  
“Yes, your conclusions were right, but you should have gone about asking in the right way. Why couldn’t you understand that I was terrified and I needed you? I needed you to hold me and tell me it was okay, not yell at me and demand to know why there were handprints on my arm.” Her anger melted, revealing her fear. Tears started pooling in the corners of her green eyes.   
“I needed you, Lucas. I needed you and you didn’t even notice…”   
The look in her eyes was breaking his heart. At that moment, he ignored everything in his mind screaming at him not to touch her and pulled her into his arms.   
She seemed to melt into him, seeking the comfort and protection his arms offered.   
Her tears came instantly as she let her guard down.  
Lucas tightened his arms around her and kissed her forehead. “Oh Brooke… shhh, it’s gonna be okay. I’m here, baby, I’m here.”   
Brooke sobbed into his chest, barely able to stand under the weight of all that she had been holding back. Her knees buckled, but Lucas was holding her up. “I’ve got you, Brooke. I’ve got you.”  
She sobbed and sobbed, clinging onto his soaked shirt front until the heaving of her shoulders gradually tapered off and her gasps for air turned back into steadier breaths. Luke stroked her hair, murmuring softly and rocking her slowly like a child.   
When her shaking and crying finally ceased, Brooke looked up at Lucas to gauge his reaction to everything that had just happened. He smiled at her, but it wasn’t a smile of happiness. It was a smile full of regret, love, understanding, and a bit of fear. He didn’t seem to know what to do, but Brooke felt safe in his arms and that was enough.  
Until he opened his mouth.  
“Brooke you should have just told me what you needed.”   
She went rigid in his arms. “Told you? Told you?” She pulled away from him and looked at him accusingly. “I was terrified! I didn’t know how to tell you! There is so much on my plate what with my mom and trying to adopt and the store and then I attacked and I was so freaking terrified. Everything I knew was coming down around me in absolute tatters and you wanted me to tell you what I needed so it would be easier for you?”   
Her glare was poisonous and her tone was icy. She was livid.   
“Brooke, that’s not—, I didn’t mean—, I shouldn’t—,”  
“No, Lucas” she cut him off “You shouldn’t have.” She huffed and turned away from him, throwing her hands up.   
“I don’t know what I thought was going to happen after you told me. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this. I know I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up or anything but I guess I did.”  
He looked at her, puzzled. “What do you mean, Brooke? What did you expect?” He thought that he had handled things well and he didn’t understand what she was saying or what she had wanted him to do. He thought he had done everything that he could. He had wanted to do more. He had wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her that he would protect her, that he would love her, that he would never let anyone near her like that again because she was his and he would always be there. He wanted to kiss her and tell her that he loved her, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t because she had just been attacked and she didn’t love him anyway.   
She looked down and her cheeks flushed. Was it anger?   
When she spoke her tone was unsure, leading Lucas to believe that the color in her cheeks was due to embarrassment, but what did she have to be embarrassed about?  
“I guess I expected—, well I wanted you to make everything better…” Luke hadn’t ever heard her so strained for words.   
She looked back up at him and her eyes flashed.   
“Whatever, it doesn’t matter.”  
He took a step toward her “Brooke, of course it matters—“  
She whirled on him. “No, Luke, it doesn’t.”   
The anger was back and her tone was biting. “It doesn’t matter because it’s not your responsibility. I’m not your responsibility. I wanted you to fix me and to help me out of this but I can see now that that was stupid. I know you don’t want me like that anymore and it’s not your job to be my knight in shining armor but I just can’t help that I wanted you to be there to rescue me. I still want you to rescue me.” She paused and her anger deflated.   
She was shocked by her own outburst. Dread and anger and fear at his rejection coiled in her abdomen and seemed to pull her stomach tight.   
He stared at her, incredulous, before practically launching himself at her. He kissed her fervently but gently; he knew she was still skittish. One of his hands was on her battered cheek and the other threaded through her hair. “Brooke, I do want you like that. Of course I want you like that! I have wanted you for years. I love you.” He kissed her again.  
She smiled against his mouth, allowing hope to flourish through her chest.   
“You love me?”  
He pulled away just far enough to make eye contact with her. “I love you. And I will always try to be your knight in shining armor, even though you don’t need me. You are stronger than you know, Brooke Davis. You are a superhero. You don’t need me, or anyone else to save you. You have always saved yourself. That’s one of the many things I love about you. You are fiercely independent; people tear you down and stomp all over you but you never let it defeat you. You always rise up, better than before. You are amazing, and I love you. You don’t need me, but it is an honor that you want me. I will always endeavor to earn that. I love you so much, Brooke. To the end of my days.” He kissed her again, letting her feel the love that he couldn’t quite express in words.   
When they broke apart, he put his forehead to hers.   
“I love you.”  
She was shocked and overwhelmed by everything that had transpired between them and the depth of feeling that Lucas had poured into her through his words and his kisses, but she felt good. She felts better than good.   
She smiled and laughed with sincerity for the first time since the attack.  
“I love you too, Lucas. To the end of my days.”


	7. Six Weeks Later

It had been six weeks since Lucas and Brooke had told each other they were in love and things were going wonderfully. They spent every free second together and were practically living at each other’s houses; they hadn’t spent a single night apart since the day Brooke had finally told him what had happened. It was great. Except Lucas noticed that Brooke still flinched sometimes when he moved to touch her too fast or hugged her from behind. He noticed that sometimes, she would stare off at nothing and her face would take on this haunted look of distant horror and shame and her eyes would move with frantic darts of someone remembering something painful, and she would continue on like that until Luke gently shook her into the present. He that noticed sometimes, too often, that she would have nightmares. She would wake him with her jerking movements, her whimpering, and her frantic whisperings of “No!,” “Get off of me!,” “Don’t touch me!,” and “Please, please stop!” The last one especially killed Lucas. A cold lance of dread speared through his heart every time her night terrors caused her to cry those words out in sleep. Her voice was always so pleading, so desperate. He hated hearing her like that. The only other time he had ever heard Brooke so scared was that day outside the school when Jimmy had a gun and she telling Luke that she had lost Peyton. Fear permeated every note of her voice and tainted the air with a tangible WORD. That day was the worst of her life; the day she was most scared of. But now, in the moments where she was asleep and her guard was down, that same fear showed blatantly. The attack may have been over and she might be safe, but she was still so afraid. Luke didn’t know what to do for her. He didn’t know how he could help her, how he could save her. She pleaded with him in her sleep to save her, but he couldn’t. How could he save her from her own memories? Her own thoughts?   
It tortured him. It tortured him every night.  
It was torturing her too. Even though she acted like everything was perfect and wonderful, Lucas could tell that she was still suffering the effects of the attack. He could see it in her every move, her every breath. She was still so afraid.   
Lucas looked up from his thoughts to look at Brooke. She was humming tunelessly to herself while she bustled about the kitchen, making dinner. Well, attempting to make dinner. She was a terrible cook and the kitchen was a mess. Lucas chuckled to himself. He got up from his seat on the couch and went to assist her.   
He grabbed the knife she was using to violently render potatoes into mush.   
He laughed “Brooke, Brooke, babe.” He chuckled again. “You’re supposed to be dicing the potatoes, not annihilating them.”   
She huffed at him and a stray piece of hair flopped in her face.   
“Well it’s not my fault that this knife can’t cut properly.” Her voice was tense and she looked about to kill someone. Her hands were on her waist and her glare could have melted someone.   
She was absolutely adorable.   
He smiled at her. “Here, let me help you.” He moved to take the knife but she flinched back reflexively.  
He stopped dead in his tracks.   
“Brooke…”  
“Luke, I—“ She cut off. She looked like she wanted to crawl into her skin and disappear.   
“Luke, I’m sorry, I don’t know what that was…”  
He sighed. “I do.” His voice was sure.  
She looked up at him, her face white. “What?”  
He sighed again. “Brooke… this is still about the attack…”   
She tensed. “No it isn’t!” Her voice was too quick, too loud.   
He took a slow and careful step towards her.   
“Yes, it is.”   
She didn’t say anything.   
He took another step towards her and stretched his hands out, silently asking if he could touch her.   
She stepped slowly into the circle of his arms and leaned her head against his chest.  
“You’re right, Luke. It is still about the attack” she said in a small, defeated voice.   
He clutched her to his chest as she fell apart. Sobs racked her and she wrapped her hands into his shirt.   
He stroked her hair until she had cried all the tears she had.   
When she quieted, she pulled from his arms and went back to her dinner preparations like nothing had happened.   
Lucas stared after her in incredulity. What just happened?  
He followed after her.  
“Brooke.”  
She didn’t respond.   
“Brooke.”  
She went to the fridge and started her tuneless humming again.  
“Brooke!”  
She turned to him this time. Her face was white. “What?” She turned back to the fridge and bent down, looking for something.   
“I… I, I…” He exhaled and dragged his hand through his hair.  
“Brooke, I think you need help. Professional help. You aren’t okay and I don’t think I can help you.”  
She stood up slowly and turned around to face him. When she spoke, her tone was livid. “I’m sorry, what did you just say to me?”


End file.
